Comedians

Reviews

Original Review:

Mark Olver used to work with children with special needs,
demanding, attention-seeking handfuls with short attention spans.
It was ideal training for his job today, a comic who mostly comperes
at clubs at the rowdier, Jongleurs end of the spectrum, corralling
drunken stag parties and boisterous hen dos.

In fact, the career leap from that sort of environment to
the relatively rarefied atmosphere of a Fringe show is often
a greater one, which many a decent club comic struggles to make.
When an audience have paid to see you personally and want to
pay attention to what you say, you don't need shouting and crowd-control,
you need material.

What Bristol-based Olver has skilfully managed to do is combine
his strengths as a rabble-rousing MC with a story, of sorts.
He's still happy to admit his weakness for the 'elaborately constructed
wank gag', but that's not the be all and end all of the show.

The tale at the nub of it comes from his compering job, when
he managed to dislocate his knee and break his ankle as he came
bounding onto the stage at Bristol's Jester comedy club. At first,
like Tommy Coooper's death, the audience first thought it was
all part of the act, although it soon became clear it wasn't.
Yet despite the agonising pain, and because he couldn't be moved,
he continued to entertain the audience for 20 minutes until an
ambulance arrived, slipping in and out of consciousness as he
did so.

It's a great, if simple, story and Olver takes his leisurely
time getting there, by way of all manner of other engaging anecdotes
that provide important context - though you'd barely know it
at the time, as the structure is so well disguised. He deviates
wildly, banters expertly with the audience and is happy to explore
in some depth what he learns from these chats, with a pretty
impressive hit rate. 'My ad libs are better than my material,'
he says. 'I'm nothing if not self-aware.'

But that's not a problem, he's just playing to his strengths,
and it the main one is that he instinctively creates a vibrant,
happy atmosphere, and one that's even better because of its spontaneity
­ however engineered that spontaneity may actually be. He
continually returns to running themes, such as the idea he's
being bullied by an audience deliberately trying to wind him
up, which all contributes to the feeling you're sharing a unique
experience. Yes, he's still playing the inclusive compere to
a large extent, but it's tailored to the audience he's playing
to.

The upshot of it all is that this is a genuine feelgood show.
Olver's optimistic message is that his accident brought him publicity
(thanks to an initial story in Chortle picked up around the world)
plus sympathy and gifts from all his friends in comedy. But the
lesson is best taught by example, and Olver's true to at least
half the title of the show. You'll come away happy, but it's
no accident.